Adam's Apple (Touch of Tantra #1)

by Liv Morris

  “I trust you’ll do what you feel is necessary, but I’d appreciate it if you’d remember I want to have a life of some kind.” I try not to come across bitter, but I can’t mask it. Being a virtual prisoner in my own house upsets me. Fuck, the whole ordeal has me on edge.

  “I’ll try to make all the changes as painless as possible. But for now you need to stay out of public places. I’ll handle getting Hayes familiar with things from here. I’m setting him up in the guest bedroom off the kitchen. You two enjoy the rest of your evening. Hayes and I will make ourselves scarce.” Peters effectively dismisses us and motions to have Goliath follow him toward the kitchen. I’m thankful to be free and finally have some time alone with Kathryn.

  With our hands still joined, I steer Kathryn toward my bar. It’s off the main room on the way to my study. Fuck, I’m avoiding that room at all costs as the memory of today’s interview comes back to my mind.

  “How about a drink or glass of wine?” My voice still sounds tight as we stand before my vast supply of alcohol. I grab a bottle of Glenlivet and pour a glass.

  “I’d love a gin and tonic. Bombay Sapphire if you have it.”

  “You bet. One gin and tonic for the lovely lady.”

  I give her a quick kiss on the cheek when I hand her the drink. But she’s observing me with a keen eye, likely wondering what’s up with me. I know it’s time to talk to her about Simon, but I’m apprehensive, a new feeling for me. The confident, I-can-take-on–the-world Adam has seemed to escape me.

  “Let’s go to my bedroom so we can talk.” She raises her brow at my suggestion. But for once the word bedroom doesn’t bring sex to my mind. “I’m serious—about talking.”

  “And I’m here to listen, Kingsley.” She gives me a quick kiss. “I can tell you have a lot on your mind. I’ve been worried about you since our phone call.” Her eyes are full of compassion, and I’d realize it’s exactly what I need right now.

  Chapter 20

  Holding my glass of scotch, I place my free hand on the small of Kathryn’s back and guide her down the hallway to my bedroom. My Italian dress shoes hit the teak wood floors making a heavy sound as I walk, reflecting my mood. I don’t stop along the way to show her the various rooms. One blends into another until we enter by bedroom suite at the end of the hall. I don’t turn on the lights, preferring to speak my secrets in the dark like a coward. The room is full of shadows as the city lights filter through the windows, giving enough light to illuminate our way in the room.

  The bedroom is modern and sparsely decorated but large at nearly twelve hundred square feet. My favorite part of the room, and my penthouse for that matter, is the room’s wall of windows, giving me a million-dollar view out onto Central Park.

  I take her hand and walk to the glass wall more out of habit than for any other reason. It always fascinates me to see the lack of materialism found in Central Park, especially in a city that’s built on it. The view I have here calms me. It’s so far removed from the hustle and bustle of my life.

  “I’ll never tire of this view. It’s incredible,” she says while gazing out the windows with me and placing her palm against the solid glass.

  “It’s nothing compared to you.” I draw her closer, careful not to spill my drink, as she wraps her arms around my waist.

  “Thanks, Kingsley. That was sweet, and maybe a little cheesy.” She looks up at me with laughter in her eyes. “I haven’t seen much of that cocky, rich player since we met two nights ago.”

  Kathryn starts unbuttoning my shirt in the area over my chest. After releasing a couple buttons, she separates the material and lays soft kisses on my exposed skin. I groan at the tingling sensation of her touch.

  “Oh, Kathryn, the things I want to do to you. But I swear this isn’t why I brought you in here.”

  “I know. There will be time to talk. I want to touch you, and I think you need it, too.”

  I can’t disagree. Her touch lifted a weight off me last night, and I need to go back to the same place of peace again. I’m convinced only Kathryn has the power to take away the hollow feeling I have inside. She’s my miracle worker.

  I should pull myself away, take her hands off me and tell her what I learned about Simon and myself, but my will to stop her isn’t there. Selfishly, I crave her healing touch more than I need to confess my misdeeds to her.

  In complete surrender, I close my eyes and tilt my head back as she removes my tie.

  “Let me have your drink.” Kathryn takes my untouched scotch and sets it down on the side table where she put her own drink.

  Kathryn turns back to me, her eyes blazing. Even in the semi-darkness of the evening, her blue eyes seem to burn seductively. The same hunger I feel for her is mirrored back at me in her eyes. There’s no denying the chemistry we have; it practically glows like a flame between us.

  She places her hands on my shoulders and slips my jacket down my arms. She glances down toward my belt and starts to unbuckle it. Kathryn grabs onto my buckle and roughly pulls the leather through the loops of my pants. My belt is tossed aside, joining my jacket on the floor. Her actions are possessive and hot. My cock stands fully erect as she pulls my shirttail out of my pants.

  Needing to feel her, too, I run my fingers through her hair and lean down to press my lips to the top of her head, kissing her silky hair. Her spicy scent swirls all around me. Closing my eyes, I feel the usual rush hit me when I breathe in her perfume.

  Kathryn glides her fingers over my chest through my open shirt with featherlight touches. She parts the shirt further and takes one of my nipples into her mouth. The sensation drives me wild, and I wrap my arms around her and pull her to me as uncontrollable desire fires through my veins.

  I place my fingers under her chin and tilt her head up so she’s looking at me. She glances at my lips, and I answer by lowering my lips to hers. We share a scorching kiss, our tongues weaving and dancing together.

  “Kathryn,” I mumble against her lips. “I want to make love to you.”

  Make love. Two simple words, but ones I’ve never uttered to a woman before. Until Kathryn, I’ve never wanted to worship a women’s body and please her in every possible way.

  “Please, Kingsley.” Her voice sounds weak with need, and I know in this intimate moment she owns me, and I’ll do anything she ask of me. Every part of me, but mostly my once-closed-off heart. The heart I forgot I even had.

  Taking her hand, I lead her to my bed and gently turn her so she’s facing me. I reach for the ties of her wrap dress and slowly unfasten them. Kathryn’s breathing becomes labored and her breasts rise and fall in anticipation. But I want to take my time tonight. I plan to savor every detail of our lovemaking.

  Much like how she removed my jacket, I ease the dress off her shoulders and let it pool onto the ground. Kathryn stands before me in white lace panties and a matching bra that have a silver threading weaved into them. The cool silver threads catch enough light to glimmer in the darkness, giving her an ethereal appearance. A sexy angel sent from heaven above to rescue me, my very own Eve.

  I circle my arms around her ribcage as my fingers find the hooks to her bra and gingerly slide the straps down her arms. Her breasts are so full and round, her nipples so ready. I close my mouth over one of her nipples. Kathryn places her hands on my head, pulling me closer, and then moans softly as I continue sucking and toying with her. God I love how responsive she is to me. I switch to her other breast, giving it the same attention, and hear the same sounds of pleasure coming from her lips.

  I kiss my way down her stomach, and I go to me knees before her. She feels like velvet, so soft and delicate against my lips. Kathryn’s muscles contract in expectancy as I get closer to her sex. With two fingers hooking around the elastic, I ease her panties down her legs, inch by inch. My actions are deliberate and torturously slow.

  Kathryn starts muttering. “Please, please.” A pleading chant as I kiss her hipbone. I lick her skin, teasing my tongue across her stomach as I make my wa
y down to her pussy. The scent of her arousal fills my nose and my dick becomes even harder. Everything about this captivating woman, her scent, her touch, and her beautiful body, turns me on.

  With her hands still on my head, she guides me lower until I’m able to push my tongue through the lips of her sex and finds her swollen clit.

  “God, Kingsley. Yes. Like that.” She tugs almost painfully at my hair.

  Kathryn’s legs begin to tremble as her climax nears. Protectively, I wrap my hands around legs, trying to hold her up, but she is still in her heels and teetering on the verge of collapse. To help anchor her to me, I carefully raise one of her legs and bring it over my shoulder. I never lose contact with her clit, causing her whole body to shake even more.

  For a woman who likes the gentleness of Tantra, she sure as hell has no problem with rough oral sex. And I aim to please her desires by sucking, licking, and touching her sex with my teeth.

  I remember what tipped her over the edge this morning, so I place my fingers inside her, then add a little twist and rub over her G-spot. After a couple of passes with my fingers, Kathryn comes undone, her muscles tightening and clenching against my fingers.

  I gaze up at her as she continues to ride the wave of her orgasm. Her beautiful face displays the pleasure I’ve given her. Her eyes close tightly and she moans through her high.

  Kathryn collapses back onto my bed, panting, with her arms thrown above her head. Her hair is a mess of tangles over her face, but there is a definite smile of satisfaction on her lips.

  Nothing could make me happier knowing I’ve put that look on her face. I’m learning the power of giving in sex, and it’s a fucking mighty feeling when you know it’s someone you…

  Was I really about to slip and say that word? Even in my own head, I’m surprised at the level of deep feelings I have for Kathryn. But I can’t really put what I feel for her into words yet. To be in like doesn’t seem strong enough. But to be in love? How could that even be possible? I’ve only known her a few days.

  I’ll settle on her being the person who means the most to me in this whole damn world. I’ll debate the L words later. For now I just want her to be mine.

  The bedroom is silent except for Kathryn’s heavy breathing as she catches her breath and stretches out across my bed. Having risen off my knees, I’m standing at the bed’s edge and begin removing my clothes, but my eyes never leave the beautiful woman in front of me with a content smile gracing her face. I return it because I feel the same. Content that my woman is satisfied and feeling blissed in her afterglow.

  “I think you enjoyed that… a lot.”

  “Pretty sure of yourself.” She smirks at me and raises up on her elbows, making her breasts jut out at me. And all I want to do is get my damn pants off and join her on the bed. “But then again, I don’t remember it being like that. Maybe it’s just been so long... ”

  Her reply makes the memory of her late husband come to mind. It’s a fleeting thought, but I still wonder why she chose me? It seems impossible this sensuous woman hasn’t been with a man fully since his death.

  “I hope it was worth the wait.” I take off my pants and socks and quickly add them to the pile by the bed.

  “You have no idea. I think I’m sleeping with an oral expert.” Her teasing is laced with dead seriousness, which surprises me. In my selfish sexual exploits, giving oral was something I did sparingly. I took more than I gave.

  “Well, I can say the same about you, beautiful. No one compares or even comes close.” I remove my boxers, the last bit of clothing I’m wearing, and I stand fully erect in front her. “Can I join you?”

  Kathryn eyes my erection and hungrily licks her lips. I stroke myself a couple of times, pumping my cock. “See something you want?”

  “Yes, but we need a condom.”

  I grab one from the unopened box in the nightstand, and when I turn around to face Kathryn, I’m expecting her to be eagerly awaiting me. Instead she has a questioning glint in her eye, and I wonder what I’ve done. She asked for the condom and I gave no resistance even though she knows I’d rather not use one. I’m sure as hell not going to press that point again tonight.

  I respond to her with my own questioning look.

  “So, you’ve never had another woman in your bedroom, but you have condoms by your bed?” She tosses back her head defiantly and stares at me speculatively. Her tone is pointed, and I’m completely blindsided by her remark.

  “I bought them a year ago when I moved in. They’re probably older than the ones in your drawer.” I dig the box from my nightstand and hand it to her. “Here, you can count them if you’d like. There should be thirty-six, counting the one in my hand.”

  She peers into the box and sees it is indeed full. I hope the full box will convince her of the truth.

  “You’re the only woman I’ve brought to my place and definitely the only one who’s been in my bed. There’s been no one else, only you.” My voice is low and serious as I try to make my case that she’s it.

  “You sound sincere.” She’s appraising me. “I guess I’ll believe you. Maybe I’m easily convinced after that orgasm.”

  I exhale the breath I was holding, and she laughs that melodic giggle I love while handing the box back to me.

  One trust disaster avoided. I breathe a giant sigh of relief as I stuff the box away in the drawer, minus one condom, of course.

  She throws the black comforter back, pulling it completely off the bed. Gracefully easing herself up the bed, Kathryn lays her head on one of my pillows and turns toward me. Invitingly, she pats my side of the bed, and I climb in next to her, turning on my side to mirror her position. Kathryn stares deeply into my eyes as if she’s searching my soul.

  The room is quiet. And in this still moment, something shifts between us. Even though we are naked and ready, sex becomes the furthest things on my mind. It’s then I know the time has come for me to tell her about Simon. The delay has been long enough; there are no excuses or reason left other than my cowardice, and she deserves to know the truth.

  Her hair spills over the white pillowcase in a black stream. Unable to keep my hands to myself, I twist a raven strand around my index finger. It grounds me to her and gives me the strength to begin a story I’m not one fucking bit proud of.

  “The detectives came to my office today to interview me about Simon.” She’s gazing with concern, hearing the wavering in my voice.

  I start at the beginning: The night I met Marta Llewellyn in the Hamptons and how it was just a normal, common hook-up for me. One so ordinary I couldn’t even remember her face, let alone her name. Not a single detail or fact is spared in my confession to her. She silently listens to me, as I pour out every damn detail. But to my relief she moves closer to me as I speak. I feared she’d do just opposite and recoil in disappointment or even disgust. Because what she heard plays into what people have warned her about me, and I’ve hung myself with each word.

  I finish and take a cleansing breath. She cups my chin in her hand, wanting my undivided attention. When I look into her eyes, what I find is complete understanding, not condemnation.

  “What you did that evening was disgraceful and cheap, and obviously a horrible decision. I’ll never understand that part of your life. But the woman agreed to be with you, she understood.” Kathryn caresses my arm with her fingertips. “She was wrong to believe there was more to you then casual sex.”

  “I suppose, but my actions got the whole ball rolling. Simon could’ve shot Tom or Lois, and I can’t seem to shake that fact.” I close my eyes, trying to clear the ugly thoughts from my mind.

  “Look at me, Kingsley.”

  I open my eyes to see her peering at me intensely.

  “Nothing happened to them, though. Yes, you made a choice to have sex with this woman, but she was malicious. She deceived a trusting man. Simon fell in love with her, but she knew the entire time he was just a means to an end as she hoped to get near you. To me that is pure evil. She took a p
erson’s heart and twisted it. But the final blame lies with Simon. Not you. He didn’t just change on a dime; maybe the break-up triggered something. Judging by his actions, I think he’s been out of touch with reality for longer than you realized, and her betrayal pushed him off the deep end.”

  “I’ve wondered what I missed with Simon. He’s always been extremely private, keeping everything to himself. We met our freshman year at MIT; all four us, Tom, Simon, myself, and Patrick. We lived on the same floor. Studied together and dreamed big dreams. We were young, idealistic, and ambitious.” I rest my hand on her hip and rub my thumb over her skin.

  “Your dreams seem to have come true.” Kathryn pats my arm reassuringly and looks pensive. “Did Simon date much in college or after? I’m wondering if he had a lot of experience with women and heartbreak.”

  “Not that I know of. Simon liked to be behind the scenes; he was quiet and not your typical college guy. Even back then, he stayed in on the weekends. We would study like mad all week and go apeshit wild on Saturday night. I honestly don’t recall him dating anyone before his ex-fiancée.” I run my fingers through my hair and close my eyes, briefly remembering how the guys and I ran the streets of Boston while running into many willing coeds along the way. “Occasionally, Simon would come out with us. But he’d always ended up going home alone after we, um, hooked-up with some girls.”

  “Typical college behavior, but it carried on way past college for you.” Her tone and words scold me; even her eyes carry a rebuke in them. “But not typical for Simon. His behavior seems anti-social. I really do think he’s had issues for a long time.”

  “Well, Dr. Kathryn, I think you’re right about Simon. He was more than just shy. At times I felt like he loathed people.” I place my arm around her waist and pull our bodies together. The silky sheets help her glide easily into my arms. I bury my face in her hair, breathing deeply while kissing her exposed shoulder. “Thanks for being here for me. I don’t know where I’d be right now without you, likely alone and working my way through a bottle of scotch.”